Wo 


wi  e*\  - 


No.  134. 


OCT 


'{Oman's  pinion  jjfissiiwftrg  Simein. 


A LONELY  CHILD  WIFE. 


By  Miss  Grace  R.  Ward. 

AMID  the  grand,  picturesque  mountains  of  India,  nestles  Naini 
Tal,  a lovely  spot  far  above  the  clouds.  Broad,  well-made 
government  roads  lead  down  the  mountain  side,  and,  pass- 
ing through  a native  bazaar,  one  looks  at  the  pride  and  glory 
of  the  place — a beautiful  lake  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains 
which  surround  it.  Imposing  buildings,  erected  to  the  memory 
of  Sir  Henry  Ramsey,  the  able  Commissioner  for  this  district, 
stand  out  in  bold  relief,  while  English  cottages — white,  with 
red  roofs — form  a pretty  picture,  as  seen  through  the  green  trees. 

But  many  a sad,  dark  home  is  to  be  found  amid  these  scenes 
of  beauty. 

One  day,  a pupil,  who  loves  Jesus  and  has  a heart  touched 
by  distress,  told  me  of  a little  child  wife,  eleven  years  old,  wTho 
had  been  brought  from  a home  full  of  brothers  and  sisters  at 
Allahabad  to  her  husband’s  house  at  Naini  Tal.  This  hus- 
band is  over  fifty  years  old,  and  far  from  kind  or  gentle,  and  he 
has  a naughty  little  son  of  five  years.  My  pupil  said,  “Miss 
Sahib,  the  child  cries  night  and  day,  and  I cannot  rest  while 
hearing  her  and  thinking  about  her.” 


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I went  to  see  the  child  wife,  who  clung  to  me  and  said  she 
would  like  to  have  me  teach  her,  if  only  her  husband  would 
allow.  As  she  could  read  very  easy  sentences,  which  she  had 
learned  of  a mission  teacher  in  Allahabad,  I left  some  books 
with  her,  promising  to  try  and  gain  permission  from  her  hus- 
band to  teach  her  regularly. 

Early  one  morning,  before  the  man  left  his  home  for  the 
office,  I called  to  see  him.  Having  heard  that  Ke  had  beaten 
his  little  wife  because  she  had  allowed  me  to  come  into  the 
house,  I had  faint  hope  of  winning  his  consent.  He  answered 
my  knock  at  the  door,  opening  it  only  a few  inches,  so  that  I 
could  see  but  half  of  his  face.  Stating  my  errand  as  I stood 
outside,  he  gruffly  replied  that  he  did  not  want  a zenana  teacher 
to  visit  his  home,  for  when  women  learned  to  read,  they  did  not 
want  to  cook,  and  when  they  could  write,  they  might  write  im- 
proper letters. 

I told  him  that  I would  not  teach  the  child  to  write,  with- 
out his  consent,  and  that  I thought  it  better  for  women  who 
were  so  shut  in  to  be  usefully  employed.  He  spoke  against 
zenana  missions,  because  they  sought  to  elevate  women,  when 
it  was  better  to  leave  the  homes  as  they  are.  I replied  that  I 
had  no  wish  to  break  up  homes,  but  described  the  misery 
which  came  from  shutting  up  women  and  making  them  unhappy, 
and  ended  by  saying,  “ You  can  go  to  your  office  or  elsewhere, 
but  your  little  wife  is  very  lonely.” 

When  I complimented  him  on  his  English,  the  vain  man 


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said,  “Well,  perhaps  you  would  do  no  harm,  and  you  may 
come  and  teach  her.’’  Glad  of  even  this  ungracious  permission, 
I called  a few  days  later,  when  I knew  the  man  would  be  at  his 
office,  but  alas!  the  door  wTas  barred  inside.  A servant  called 
out  that  she  dared  not  open  the  door,  as  the  Babu  was  angry 
and  had  forbidden  it.  No  entreaty  could  open  that  door  for  me. 

I went  to  the  opposite  house,  where  my  dear  pupil  lived, 
and  her  daughter  called  the  little  wife  to  the  window.  She 
came,  but  only  to  wave  her  hand  to  me  not  to  visit  her,  and  her 
despairing  little  face  haunts  me  still. 

A year  later  Miss  Lathrop  talked  with  the  little  child  wife, 
through  the  railing  of  her  veranda.  She  answered  the  child’s 
questions  about  the  neighbors  in  her  old  Allahabad  home  and 
the  girls  she  had  known  in  school,  and  found  that  she  read  and 
enjoyed  the  Peep  of  Day , which  treasure  it  is  doubtful  if  her 
husband  knew  about.  The  surroundings  she  found  as  for- 
bidding as  possible,  for,  even  in  that  crowded  bazar,  the  child 
is  literally  a prisoner,  and  entirely  alone  and  unprotected  the 
whole  day. 

I fear  to  make  further  advances,  lest  more  trouble  may 
come  to  her,  so  I am  leaving  this,  as  many  other  cases,  with 
God,  and  praying  for  the  child  for  whom  my  heart  is  grieved. 


Do  you  call  this  a sad  story  ? It  is,  alas!  the  tale  of  thous- 
ands of  little  girls  in  India,  where  national  custom  denies  them 


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the  joy  of  childhood.  To  reach  this  pitiable  class,  the  Woman’s 
Union  Missionary  Society  was  formed  in  i860,  after  repeated 
appeals  for  the  downtrodden  zenana  women.  The  facts  pre- 
sented were  so  appalling,  and  the  need  so  imperative,  no  doubt 
was  felt  that  this  was  the  Lord’s  time  for  a definite  organization 
for  this  object.  The  creed  was  simple:  Win  for  Christ;  the 
method  at  home,  Voluntary  Service ; the  workers  abroad,  Single 
Women  who  could  devote  undivided  time  and  thought  to  the 
cause. 

A generation  has  come  into  being  since  the  Society  started, 
and  God  has  set  His  seal  on  the  work — a proof  that  the  need 
was  great  and  was  well  met.  Voluntary  labor  demands  volun- 
tary gifts,  and  the  work,  wide  and  far-reaching,  in  many  stations 
of  India,  needs  your  help  Will  you  give  it?  Answer  this 
question  as  you  think  of  the  sad,  dwarfed  lives  of  the  child- 
wives  of  India. 

Donations  may  be  sent  to  the 

Woman’s  Union  Missionary  Society, 

67  Bible  House,  New  York, 

“THE  MISSIONARY  LINK” 

IS  A MONTHLY  RECORD  OF  WORK  IN  THIS  SOCIETY. 

Price , Fifty  Cents  a Year. 


SEND  FOR  THE  LEAFLETS  OF  THE  SOCIETY. 


